


Stress Relief

by angstbot



Series: Stress Relief [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 10:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstbot/pseuds/angstbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was just something so appealing about getting under her skin, peeling back the Queen and the Mayor to find the woman underneath. A little missing scene in 3x03.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Relief

Emma told herself she just needed a distraction from how dire things were in Neverland. Something to take her mind off the fact that they were playing Pan’s game, on his turf, and he held all the cards. The stress was unrelenting, and if her mind wandered a little, she didn’t think anyone should judge her for that.

Especially when goddamned sexyass Regina _still_ wore her shirt unbuttoned down to _there_ while traipsing through a fucking jungle, with lacy whatever peeking out.

It was fucking mesmerizing the way the fabric strained across the mayor's obscenely perfect breasts, which Emma was sure would have equally amazing nipples. Taut, wildly responsive nipples that she could roll between her fingers and bite and suck. Yes, Emma could see it now, the way the cords in Regina's neck would stand out as she threw her head back and moaned like a porn star.

She was startled out of her reverie as the woman in question cleared her throat behind her. She looked back to see that Regina had stopped walking and was rolling out her ankles.

“Hey.”

The mayor looked baffled. “Hey.”

“You’re falling behind.”

Regina looked at her with narrowed eyes for a split second before her expression became calculating. “Don’t tell me you’re _worried_ about me, Emma.”

Emma was damned if she didn't want to fuck that smirk right off Regina’s face. To bend her over some convenient surface and plunge inside her forcefully--strap on or fingers, she didn't care--turn her into a shaking mess of needy woman and then make her come spectacularly. 

Though, if she was to be perfectly honest with herself, she wasn’t in it for the power. She'd be just as pleased to be the kept girl to this former Evil Queen and service her on command if that meant she could fuck her again and again. 

The wave of desire that rocketed through her at that image was so strong she had to close her eyes. Goddammit, was part of Neverland being run by teenagers that it made _everyone_ act like one? Who fantasizes about someone in their _presence_?

"Are you quite alright, dear? You seem a little flushed," the queen commented, all false solicitude and real seduction.

“Regina,” Emma admonished, trying to keep it together even as the mayor stepped into her personal space, mouth curving in one of her lupine smiles.

“Coy doesn’t become you, _Emma_ ,” came the reply, slightly mocking, as the older woman continued her advance, stepping close enough that their clothes were touching even if their bodies weren’t yet. “Is there something you _want_?”

A growl clawed its way out of Emma’s throat as she closed the last, tiny distance and kissed Regina. The queen chuckled against her mouth, not quite cruelly, then pulled back slightly to murmur “See now, that wasn’t so hard” before claiming the blonde’s lips forcefully.

It wasn’t so much a kiss as a battle for dominance, of course, and Emma supposed neither of them expected anything different, but with Regina’s tongue tracing the shape of her mouth she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Her fingertips dragged down the older woman’s back to clutch at her ass, causing Regina to break the kiss a little in a moan. It was all the advantage Emma needed, and she swiftly backed the mayor against a nearby tree, pinning her there with one thigh wedged firmly against the growing heat between her legs.

 “There’s a good girl,” Regina hummed, clearly unwilling to concede even given their position. “A little stress relief will go a long way.”

“Yes, stress relief completely explains you being jealous of Hook possibly being my boyfriend,” Emma snarled.

“Shut up and kiss me,” the queen demanded. Her mouth found Emma’s once more as she wrapped one leg around the blonde in a gesture so deliciously wanton that the sheriff’s hips surged forward against her involuntarily.

At that sensation, the mayor’s head thudded none too gently back against the tree and god, that neck. Emma was damned if she didn't want to leave hickeys all over it, to remind Regina every time she encountered a reflective surface that she had been well and truly possessed. Her entire existence contracted, suddenly, to getting her mouth on it.

The contact made her sigh in relief like finally achieving a fix. Emma had not previously appreciated how she needed the smell of Regina’s perfume and her warmth and the softness of skin over jawbone and neck muscles and trachea cartilage. Torn between kissing and licking and sucking and biting, a giddy laugh bubbled up from her chest as the older woman's fingers tangled in her hair to keep her there, because she didn’t have to choose.

The blonde lost herself in mapping the contours of the mayor's neck methodically with lips and tongue and teeth, taking in every texture and angle. Trailing her mouth down to where neck met shoulder, it felt like she imagined Christmas morning was supposed to. The hard ridge of Regina’s collarbone! The smooth expanse of her sternum! Everything was new and thrilling and then abruptly her face was inches from the cleavage that started it all and the world seemed to stop.

Coherent thought fled as both hands were drawn inexorably up to cup the older woman’s breasts, the nipples so hard that they were visible even through entirely too many layers of cloth. Wildly responsive was right. Emma rasped her thumbs over them once, twice, gripping firmly, and heard a sound that was more animal than human but entirely desire. As her hands sprang into restless action against the mayor’s shirt buttons, she realized she had no idea whose throat it had been torn from.

But then her hand was inside Regina’s shirt, inside Regina’s bra, erect flesh tickling the center of her palm in a way that felt somehow more obscenely intimate than anything so far.

“More,” Regina hissed, and Emma was only too glad to oblige, bringing her other hand into play, pinching both nipples hard and pulling up on them roughly as she moved her mouth from the older woman’s throat to kiss her. And when the mayor moaned into her mouth the blonde damned near came on the spot.

It was at this point, between twisting the older woman’s nipples and canting their hips rhythmically together, that Emma had cause to curse the fact that they were fucking in a goddamn jungle against a tree. They had no time, no luxury of positioning, no options to speak of. Her _parents_ were just up the path, for fuck's sake. Emma's fantasies, of teasing Regina slowly, working her up and up and up and never letting her come until she broke, until she begged, would just have to wait. The blonde dropped to her knees, scrabbling at the waistband of the queen’s pants.

“When we get home, I wanna do this with you in a skirt,” she muttered before abruptly stripping the older woman bare to mid-thigh, fantasies falling out of her mouth in her urgency to get Regina in it. “Ruck it up over your goddamn perfect ass and tongue you with your high heels digging into my back.”

“And garters,” was Regina’s contribution as Emma leaned in for a long slow, swipe. Her snark quickly transmuted into a gasp as the blonde moaned in response, the vibration sending ripples through her body.

The mayor was damn near dripping, and Emma’s senses were on overload with how much she _wanted_. Each new approach to giving Regina pleasure was a revelation, swirling her tongue over the older woman's clit to make her whimper, giving drawn out strokes to coax out slow shivers, flicking quickly to make her hips buck, taking hypersensitive flesh into her mouth and sucking. In that moment, Regina’s cunt was a finely-tuned instrument and she was a virtuoso.

The older woman’s hand clutched at the back of her head to keep her close, practically fucking her face as she reached for orgasm, and it was glorious. There was just something so appealing about getting under her skin, peeling back the Queen and the Mayor to find the woman underneath. She was so damned gorgeous like this: needy, mewling, wrecked. Emma wanted to give her everything.

“More,” Regina commanded again. “Fuck me.”

Reaching a hand up, Emma had fingertips poised to comply when the idea of being- inside- Regina- caught her hard in the chest and made her eyes roll back with not just desire but something akin to reverence. And it stopped her dead in her tracks. Jesus fuck, when had this push/pull, conflict, get-in-each-other’s-face, hot-sparky thing become _feelings_?

She quickly swallowed back the surge of care and the surge of fear that chased it, transmuting what was entirely too true into false bravado as her fingers slid home.

“That’s it, baby,” she hissed as she began thrusting forcefully. “You _need_ me to fuck you. You’re going to come on my hand aren’t you? You’re going to come all over my face.”

“Fuck, yes, more.” The need in Regina’s voice rolled Emma’s eyes back and clutched at her heart all over again.

“You’re insatiable,” the blonde replied, sliding a third finger in easily because the mayor was just that slick. “I love- that.” She hastened to put her mouth back to Regina’s pussy to prevent any further risk of ill-advised words that she was sure she couldn’t possibly even _mean_ , contracting her world to the wetness coating her chin and the clenching of internal muscles around her fingers until the older woman went rigid with a long, low growl of a cry.

She allowed herself a brief, tender nuzzle of Regina’s thigh before re-dressing the older woman with shaking hands as she continued to twitch with aftershocks. Emma put her walls back together as she put the mayor’s clothes back together, not risking looking at her face until both processes were as done as they were getting. She regretted it immediately.

Because there she was, just Regina, with her eyes closed and her teeth digging into her lip just shy of drawing blood, and the hell if she didn’t want to see the woman underneath the sharp edges all the goddamn time.

She was so fucked. 

“Hook thinks her place is right up ahead. Come on.” 

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just a love letter to one Regina Mills. And Lana. But mostly Regina. You know it, I know it, I’m gonna cop to it. With some angst, because I can’t even write a romp without it. 
> 
> Also, I saw someone somewhere refer to Regina as “lupine” and now I can’t remember where. If you know whose genius turn of phrase it was tell me so I can give credit.
> 
> Plus, shoutout to MrEvilRegal on YouTube whose encyclopedic collection of Regina clips was indispensable.


End file.
